Guerrero bronco

Photos from Guerrero, Mexico by Andrew Stefan

"There they go, with those grotesque masks"—Chilpancingo's Dance of the Tlacololeros

"There they go, with grotesque masks, multicolored ribbons, and various ornate sombreros—this is grandeur reflected in the dance!"

—Francis Pino

Chilpancingo, Guerrero is ablaze with imagery from the Danza of the Tlacololeros. The “grotesque” masks worn for the dance adorn the booths of market vendors; vibrant paintings of menacing devil-figures can be found lurking around various corners of the city; a bronze statue of a dancer in a jaguar costume stands in a maniacal pose in the heart of Chilpancingo's commercial center. The dark imagery of the Dance of the Tlacololeros gives one the sense that the history and symbolism behind the tradition are both very deep. 

And they are.

The whip-cracking Tlacololero

The Danza of the Tlacololeros is actually an amalgamation of several different dances and ceremonies from all over  Southern Mexico that, in some cases, predate the Spanish Conquest. For example, the dance’s eponymous character, the Tlacololero—a mustachioed, whip-cracking agriculturalist—has supposedly been traced back to rituals of Olmec societies. Today, the culturally-patchworked Danza is largely reserved for special occasions and festivals such as the August 13^th Paseo del Pendón in Chilpancingo, Guerrero.  


The Dance features a tremendous cast of characters: humanoid bulls, a variety of fiendish-looking farmers, wrestling jaguars, animal hunters, and devils of all sizes. So, what does it all mean? I'm still not quite sure. In downtown Chilpancingo I located a book about the Danza, hoping to unearth some answers. I’ve read about half of the book and I’m more confused than ever. This stuff is deep. Like real deep. The esoteric dances and their specific regional histories; the cast of complex, intermingling characters; the profound symbolism...it’s actually enough to give you anxious fits. 


I’ve been learning about the Danza in a piecemeal manner, character-by-character. Since I’ve only seen the dance performed once (about three years ago) and I am clearly no expert on the topic, I’m just going to provide you with what I consider to be the most-interesting morsels of what I’ve read, so far, about the Danza of the Tlacololeros in the book Danzas by Francis Pino. 

The Tejorones

According to Pino, the dance performed by the characters called the “Tejorones…reflects a struggle against power and the evil at its core…The attacks against power manifest in different ways such as: ridicule, insults, or pantomime that are made directly against local personalities.”

The Devils of Teloloapan

"The Devils of Teloloapan" can be seen in the center of the painting

In 1857, the indigenous people of Teloloapan were engaged in a battle with French colonizers when they ran out of water and ammunition. They were forced to improvise, so they “met to form a plan" and ultimately decided to try to scare the French away using devil masks. With the masks, the natives of Teloloapan looked "truly horrifying," writes Pino. They "...dressed in the costumes, and snuck into the enemy camp. After a sign from the group's captain, they attacked with terrifying screams, while cracking their whips. The French, pale with fear at the sight, left running into the night.”

The Tigre

The Tigre statue in downtown Chilpancingo

The Tigre character, which is really more a of a jaguar, is often depicted in combat with other Tigres. This character “represents evil," it’s “the character that causes damage to the farmers' crops” within the narratives of the Danza. The Tigre is hunted by several other characters  as part of the Danza rituals. 

An artist's rendering of the Danza from the book Danzas by Francis Pino

Occupying Mexico City: Teachers protest like they actually care about their livelihoods

Photo by Andrew Stefan

Public school teachers from all over Mexico have occupied Mexico City’s iconic Zócalo to oppose national reforms designed to make way for the “punitive standardized assessment” of teachers across the country. Today, I accidentally stumbled upon the educators’ protest encampment. It looked almost insignificant inside the behemoth Zócalo—a small patch of makeshift tents and tarps strung over plastic chairs and sleeping bags. The occupation was well-decorated with powerful dissident artwork and colorful banners of resistance, but it still wasn’t a particularly awe-inspiring sight. Regardless, the importance of the endeavor was certainly not lost on me. After I wandered into a tent belonging to Oaxaca’s notorious Section 22 union of the Coordinadora Nacional de Trabajadores de la Educación (CNTE), I had the opportunity to speak with three dedicated teacher-occupiers. Some of what they told me seemed striking as I thought back to teachers’ unions and their actions—or lack thereof—in the US. 

The first person I spoke with—an elderly gentleman with graying hair and a John Waters pencil-moustache—spoke with great pride as he stated that he and his comrades will continue the occupation of the Zócalo until the federal government "actually considers" meeting their demands. His co-occupiers nodded in firm agreement. The group’s dedication was palpable. I thought back to my own cold, bureaucratic—and totally ineffectual—teachers’ union in Baltimore last year. I tried to imagine any of its leaders or active members displaying such commitment to the well-being of teachers and students—even if only in rhetoric. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. I began to wonder how serious these rebel-educators in the Zócalo might actually be. I asked, “How long have you been occupying the Zócalo?” A short, middle-aged woman to my right enthusiastically chimed in, “About twenty days.” Twenty days of sleeping on concrete. In the cold. And often in the rain. Whoa. 

Hmmm. Clear demands? A confrontational political action designed to realize those demands? Serious commitment to that political action? It all seemed to make too much sense. I grew increasingly depressed as I thought back to my old teachers’ union in Baltimore. I thought back to the district's regular use of punitive standardized teacher assessments, which created an unrelenting sense of job-instability among teachers and made the classroom a needlessly-tense environment for both educators and students.

Toward the end of my encounter with the teacher-occupiers, I described what I considered to be some problems of overlap between the US and Mexican education systems. I also shared a few tales of my own experiences in public education. The occupiers all suggested that teachers in the US and Mexico need to build stronger relationships of solidarity and friendship to overcome obstacles to social justice the classroom. I nodded, smiling in full agreement. However, I did so knowing that, on the US end, any such relationships would probably have to be pursued by rank-and-file members of teachers’ unions. I simply couldn't imagine my union leadership in Baltimore condoning meaningful talk or action toward teacher-empowerment or greater fairness in the classroom. 
    

Some Lessons from Texas: The Real Power of the People

1. We do not live in a democracy 
Lawmakers are attempting to impose a policy to "virtually ban abortion" throughout the state of Texas, even though "a majority of Texans" oppose the law. Hmmm, sounds like the people are being well-represented in Texas, just as they are throughout the rest of the country on matters like drone bombings, PRISM, and corporate welfare. 

2. Strategies for resistance from within the system do not work—the system is rigged 
In an intense last-ditch effort to block the anti-abortion bill yesterday, Senator Wendy Davis attempted a 13-hour filibuster, which would have consumed all the time necessary for a vote on the law. However, Davis was subject to point-of-order "warnings" from her Republican colleagues, which, apparently, after a total of three, result in an automatic end to filibustering. (Davis's second warning was issued because she received "help with a back-brace," just to show you how serious these things were.) Anyway, Davis was eventually removed from the Senate floor and the law went to a vote regardless of her efforts. While Davis's filibuster attempt was admirable and undoubtedly helped to mobilize protesters—whose presence would prove more decisive—it was not her efforts that stopped the law from being passed last  night. The system's own rules and procedures were employed to shut Davis down as she worked from within the system. Surprise, surprise.

3.Acts of citizen disruption work 
“An unruly mob, using Occupy Wall Street tactics, disrupted the Senate from protecting unborn babies,” Texas Lt. Governor David Dewhurst said this morning. Straight from the horse's mouth, friends—the protesters stopped the vote, not Davis's filibuster. In the words of another account from CNN News: "The packed gallery of the session erupted in boos. And for 15 minutes—as the clocked ticked toward 12 a.m.—their raucous chants and shouts of 'Shame, shame, shame' drowned out the proceedings. Although it wasn't immediately apparent to onlookers, the disruption prevented lawmakers from completing their vote by the official end of the session—killing the bill." 

So, we now seem to have a guidepost for changing policy and taking control of our government.

Those at the helm of our political system have led so many to believe that perfunctory distractions—like voting and petition signing—are meaningful and effective forms of political action. Anyone paying attention knows they are not. However, there are real alternatives. In 1977, political-sociologists Francis Fox Piven and Richard Cloward published a landmark study on social justice movements, which cogently argued that the success of any people's movement is largely determined by the degree to which it can disrupt social and political order. Last night's events seem to bolster this thesis.

Effective, organized mass-disruption does not have to be violent but it is never a peaceful process. The intent is to create tension, to destabilize, derail, and weaken the “smooth functioning of the economic and political systems” that have blocked us from the levers of power. As the people of Texas showed us last night, it is the politics of disruption that will allow us to exercise any control over our increasingly-authoritarian government.